A Non-Exhaustive List of Lies My Abuser Told
Content Warning: This is not only going to be a long-read, it’s going to be a fucked up one. There’s emotional, psychological, verbal and sexual abuse. There’s a lot of gaslighting and manipulation.
It’s been over a year since I last saw my abuser in person. I’ve tried to let it go, move on, forgive, forget. Then I get reminded of something that happened and I start to feel afraid and angry and confused. I feel like I’m going crazy. I felt like my voice was taken away. So I’m taking it back. Holding it in only hurts me.
This is also going to be pretty hard for me to share. I don’t always come up looking particularly great either. I believed things and reacted in ways that I feel deeply ashamed of now. But I don’t believe that any of what I did means that I deserved to be treated the way that I have. And the only way I discovered the abusive patterns was to find out what he’d already skirted accountability before in the past. So maybe one day this will be the missing piece for the next person who falls for the lies.
I’ve tried to keep things as chronological and honest as possible, but there are periods of time where things were so chaotic and I was running on pure adrenaline that my memories are hazy. And of course, memories are always skewed by our brains and past experiences. But I’ve also cross-referenced old messages, photos and posts to try and stick to what I can be sure really happened.
I just ask that if you’re going to consume my trauma for your curiosity or your entertainment, that if you’re going to ask questions, don’t just ask them to me. Ask my abuser for the truth. Ask the people around him if they’re aware of these patterns and behaviours. Ask him what he’s doing to actually change.
Admittedly, I didn’t ask a lot of questions when we first started to see each other. But he posted about polyamory before casually bringing her up for the first time during the second time we hung out, so I rationalized that he assumed that I already knew about her. Later when I asked him to head out so I could sleep for work the next day, he joked about me kicking him out of bed. I told him I really did have work the next day and assumed that he wouldn’t be able to spend the night. I asked him if it was something that could happen, and he said that it was but it’d involve planning. Soon after he made a post filled with adoration for his girlfriend’s birthday. Then he told me that he got engaged. I saw that we were in a non-monogamy group together so things seemed to check out but then I started asking real questions.
The first time I saw him after the engagement, I asked if there were any ground rules or boundaries that I should be respecting. He said there were only two that would be relevant to me: he was to keep things separate and not to see other people more than twice in a week. That seemed reasonable enough. Later that day he’d refer to us casually as friends with benefits, though it wasn’t a label I remembered us discussing. But it was fine enough to me and I just appreciated some clarity around expectations.
We saw each other a couple times after the pandemic state of emergency began, but we talked almost every day—he started to send me good morning and good night texts. I didn’t have a bubble so I didn’t ask too many questions about his. The second time we actually saw each other, there was a moment where things slowed down and things felt suddenly intimate. I convinced myself that I was imagining things, but that in turn forced me to confront the possibility of actually having feelings for him. I dropped acid a few days later, and messaged him that I felt like a baby deer just learning to stand on my own legs and I was terrified of having the rug ripped out from under me. He promised that it wouldn’t happen.
The day after, he told me that we couldn’t see each other anymore: His relationship with his fiance was closing off because of the quarantine. I asked if it was forever, and he wasn’t sure but he would talk to her. When he did, he returned to tell me we couldn’t speak at all, he’d technically been cheating by seeing me regularly. It wasn’t just me, there were others and it’d been a problem long before we started to see each other. I’d later find out that his relationship had closed off before the last time we saw each other—not just technically cheating, no that was just cheating, I realized with dismay—and before he promised me that he wouldn’t pull the rug out from under me.
After a month or so of not speaking to each other, he messaged to tell me that he’d been kicked out of his fiance’s apartment. He was walking around with a suitcase of his belongings in the middle of the night. I asked if he had somewhere to go. Eventually I agreed to let him spend the night while he figured out his next move.
When he arrived, he told me that he’d taken some drugs and couldn’t take all the lies anymore and came clean to his fiance about everything. He was ashamed and he knew he was wrong but he still wanted to have something with me, was that wrong? I said no, but it’d be wrong of me to just sweep it all under the rug. He had to tell me what he meant by “telling her everything.” What did he actually do? And I warned him that he needed to be honest because I’d be furious if I found out he lied or left out anything relevant.
He told me that he saw people that he wasn’t supposed to. He wasn’t supposed to bring people back to their apartment but he did when she’d go out of town. He even, and he sobbed with shame here, put her sexual health at risk. I asked if he pressured her into an open relationship and he promised that he didn’t. I asked if the cheating started before they opened up their relationship and he said no, but eventually he confessed that he’d started sexting people before. He hadn’t told her that part. He hadn’t considered it cheating.
I’d later find out that he was only supposed to be seeing men. Their open relationship was a part of him exploring his bisexuality. Which might have been gender affirming if I hadn’t had to explain to him that I actually didn’t identify as a girl, I was transmasculine, after we’d already started seeing each other. And he’d met at least one other person I knew he slept with at a sapphic event (which he told me that he only attended because it was after one of his shows and he’d already been told that he shouldn’t have been in attendance if he identified as a cis man).
After my interrogation and taking some time to process, I agreed to keep seeing him. I wanted to give him space to mourn his relationship, but I also wanted to be clear. I wanted a relationship with him if we continued to sleep together. I didn’t feel pressed to give us official labels until, after spending a few nights together, he casually mentioned that it was his first time being single in a while. Available, I corrected him. He was available, but he wasn’t single. He tried to casually brush it off, but I pushed. I wanted to be clear: We were in a relationship if we were seeing each other.
It took a few weeks to settle on calling each other boyfriends. He’d asked if it’d be okay to use, along with he/him pronouns, if he ever wrote a joke about me. I said it was fine, but I preferred he use they/them if he was going to do that. He resisted that, but asked if that meant he could just call me his boyfriend, and I liked the sound of it so I didn’t push the rest. (He never wrote any jokes about boyfriends that I ever heard though, only ever girlfriends.)
One of the boundaries I did set was to let me know if he was thinking about seeing someone new or if he was thinking about changing any relationships with other people. I didn’t need to know anything about them or what they did together, but just to give me as much heads up as possible so that I didn’t feel sideswiped. The first time he told me that he was going to see someone new, he messaged me while he was on his way to meet them. I didn’t know that he’d been talking to somebody. After his date I asked if it was a social distanced, he said with people they ran into but not each other.
I felt hurt that he didn’t think that was something I needed to know until afterwards. He explained he was struggling with talking openly about it, he’d been so afraid of his ex’s reaction to him having feelings for other people, that he still felt anxious about it. I promised I wasn’t angry, but that I did really want to stress how worried I was about COVID. I didn’t want to veto his connections, but I did want to know if he was introducing more exposure risks I had to consider when seeing him. He promised he understood that it was important to me.
He spent a lot of the beginning of our relationship telling me about how he felt so ashamed of how he treated his ex because of how amazing she was. Their communication was great, she was great, but he screwed it up anyways. It started to make me feel insecure to hear how wonderful she was but I thought it was good that he was showing remorse and was feeling the weight of his actions. One of the ways that he made sure to tell that made her great was that she kept their business off social media, even during the break-up. I didn’t tell him that I’d taken a peek at her Facebook (the first time I ever had) the night she’d kicked him out and seen her post about the wedding being off since he’d been cheating on her for three years. It was gone when I went to check it again a few days later, so I considered she might’ve regretted it and deleted it and I didn’t want to ruin the image he had of her. I think he only said it because he didn’t think I knew about the post.
He told me that his ex took a vacation and let him dogsit while he packed up the rest of his things to move. When he came back, he told me that she’d installed security cameras to watch what he packed. He said he didn’t blame her but he was hurt that she thought it was necessary and that she’d think he’d steal from her or something. I still wonder if that’s the real reason why.
After he told me about what happened with his ex the night she kicked him out, he decided to stay with his mother instead of crashing with me. He later explained that it was because he wanted the first night we spent together to be special. He asked if he could move in, but I wasn’t comfortable with that. He could crash here, but I wasn’t willing to add him into my lease. For him, that was non-negotiable, so I didn’t complain when he mentioned that he was going to stay with a friend he’d “slept with a couple times before a while ago” but swore that they weren’t sleeping together anymore. But when he found his own place to live, he told me that something might happen between them but he wasn’t sure. I told him to keep me in the loop. He said he would.
Eventually he told me that he jumped into the deep end too fast and he was going to break off these other connections and take some time to focus on himself and our relationship. He broke it off with the first person he told me he was seeing. He said it was the right thing to do but it felt bad. I told him that made sense since he was creating new habits. Then he told me that, while I was away for the weekend, he was going to have dinner with the friend he stayed with and tell her that he just wanted to be friends. The next day he learned that he tested positive for COVID, which is how I learned that he’d also spent the night there because now he was just going to quarantine there for the next ten days because he shouldn’t take the TTC while he was sick.
I was frustrated but I couldn’t tell him to risk infecting more people so I didn’t argue. We spent the next week and a half texting each other how much we missed each other and how he’d rather be with me but he was glad that I wouldn’t get sick. On the last day of his isolation, I asked him what he was up to. He took a long time to reply. “Sorry, I had sex and I fell asleep.” Sorry what? I asked in return. He tried to tell me that I knew that it was a possibility but I searched through our texts and sent a screenshot of his message saying they were definitely just friends right now. He got angry that I did that and said if that was something I was going to do then we were done. We might already be done, I argued. We fought over it but eventually I agreed not to do it again and to keep seeing him.
Sometime early on in his COVID isolation, I told him that I’d been scared about affording my housing. CERB was running out soon and the part-time job I’d secured had delayed my start indefinitely and I was calculating how long I could make my savings hold out if I needed to start my job hunt all over again. I told him I still wasn’t ready to move in with him, but I may not have a choice after a while. I asked if he still wanted to try living with me and if it was something I could keep as a plan B in a worst case scenario. He promised that I could count on him. But he said he wanted to have a similar conversation with the “just a friend” so that everyone could be on the same page. Afterwards he told me that she had felt similarly, so I told him that I wasn’t going to tell him he had to help me, but knowing she’d had an entire bedroom free, I figured that she must’ve been in a pretty desperate spot. I told him if she needed the help more than I did, then I wasn’t going to put her in a tricky position, but to just let me know what he wanted to do. I didn’t hear anything about it again until they were already starting to look at apartments together. He told me that he told me that they’d talked about it. I told him that he told me that they came to a similar position, as in, things were still up in the air. But I’d started my job and I could afford to keep my apartment for at least a little while longer so I tried to let it go. There was obviously urgency and she must have no other options. After they stopped living together, he started to tell me all about the financial help she’d been getting from her family—the kind neither of our families could afford.
Before he tested positive for COVID, I told him that I was concerned about the exposure risks he was taking. I asked to wait to see him after I got my COVID test a few days earlier until after I got back from spending a weekend away with a friend. They had high-risk family so they weren’t taking chances and I respected that. When he asked to see me the day before I was supposed to leave, I saw he posted a video of him at a show the night before to his IG story so I told him that I couldn’t take the chance. He told me that it hadn’t occurred to him that he wouldn’t be able to see me as often if he didn’t take COVID seriously. He promised he would starting from then on.
But he ignored me after I told him that he was supposed to isolate after getting PCR tested until he got his negative result, especially since he was getting tested to go onto a film set. Later he’d insist it was from getting a sandwich on his way to get tested and definitely not at the show or on any of the dates he was on in the days leading up to it. I told him that didn’t make sense for incubation rates. He brushed it off again.
But he started to accuse people of being hypocrites after he lost a bunch of friends when he disclosed that he’d had COVID. He told me that they had no right to be upset, they were doing all the same things he was. It wouldn’t be until after we broke up that I’d find out that it was actually because he’d made all of them different promises about his COVID safety practices and had broken them, only coming clean after he’d tested positive. He went so far as to say he wouldn’t forgive his former best friend, but I told him that I thought it was fair for them to be upset that he put their health at risk. He agreed and they returned to being besties again.
The first time we saw each other after his COVID quarantine period, we went straight from the door to the bed. Because I didn’t see him the week before, it’d been over three weeks since I’d last had sex so I was eager to make up for lost time, especially after making up from almost breaking up. So I focused on holding my angry reaction when he suddenly realized that he didn’t tell me that he stopped using condoms with his now-soon-to-be-roommate—moments after coming inside me. He lamented his timing and all I could think about was keeping myself breathing. He told me that it’d been a heat of the moment decision but he wanted to tell me in person, but he got so caught up in my greeting that he chickened out. He made it seem like she sprung it on him, and he’d already told me that she’d spiralled out after hearing that we almost broke up after they slept together. I told him that I needed some time to process and left him in the bedroom as I sat in my living room contemplating what to do. I didn’t want this to be another thing this new metamour would internalize in shame, and I did rush things without asking any questions, so maybe it wasn’t entirely his fault. After over an hour passed, I realized how nerve-wracking it must have been to be waiting on me to come back, so I returned with a reluctant agreement to work through it.
The next week, my new meta started to feel sick while he was with me. It’s also supposed to be the first time that we planned to spend more than one night together in a row. I felt guilty and asked if she’d like him to help her out and he adamantly insisted that she would rather handle it alone. But I started to feel what I now recognize to be symptoms from my tethered cord and I also needed to handle it alone so he went back to her the next day. A few days later, I also started to feel really sick. It turned out that he’d had chlamydia and both the meta and I were experiencing symptoms. First he told me that the meta had seen someone other than him right before he went over and found out he had COVID. When I’d mention it later, he then told me that oh, he asked but she said that she never actually met up with that other guy. We’d already ruled out it was me. I asked if there was anyone else he could’ve gotten it from, he told me that he used condoms with the other person he’d been seeing (though it was news to me that they’d even had sex in the first place). I told him he should reach out to her anyways and let her know to get tested. He told me that he couldn’t because she’d blocked him. Which seemed a little strange to me after he told me that she’d been hurt but understood when he broke it off.
When he was looking for apartments with the meta, he promised me that it was a strictly roommates with benefits situation, and even then it wasn't certain if the benefits would last. But once the lease was signed, things started to change. Suddenly they were spending all their time together when they were home together, even though he told me that he thought the whole thing would work because she loved to have her space and didn’t want to spend any time with him. Then for a week she was his girlfriend but then he told me that she changed her mind and didn’t seem interested in a relationship with him. When I asked how he felt, he said that he wanted to have a relationship with her but it didn’t seem to matter.
This is where I start slipping into patterns that I’m not proud of. But she was making holiday plans for them together (and I was welcome to join, of course), she sent over treats for me whenever he came to see me, and (after finding out that he’d given her my social media handles and she’d been secretly checking my pages whenever we were together) I began to check her Twitter to find tweets talking about looking for a husband. Whenever I’d ask about them becoming serious, his answer was always different.
Things seemed to be working out for a little while until I got a message from him one day. He told me that he really fucked up and he didn’t know what to do. He explained that they’d been talking about taking some sexy photos together and he said he wanted to make some content for OnlyFans. But afterwards when he told her about posting them, she got upset and said she’d never agreed to it. I asked if he deleted them and he said immediately and he showed her that they were deleted. She still wasn’t talking to him. I told him that was fair and we talked about how super clear he had to be with consent. I told him that now he knows better for next time, but he couldn’t change how she felt. It was a big violation and she may not be able to forgive him for it, and he had to be okay with that. A few days later he told me that they talked about it and she did forgive him.
But then he began to always run late whenever he was supposed to come over because of some argument she’d “spring” on him as he’d be trying to walk out the door. Then it became that she would bring up the photos whenever they got into a disagreement about chores. He told me that she would ignore him and walk away from him during arguments which was a big trigger for him.
At first I defended her. I explained how insecurity and trauma can make people act in ways that might seem like overreactions. It seemed to smooth things out for a while. But I felt wary of what he was telling me so I began to keep tabs of her Twitter. I knew it wasn’t healthy but so many alarm bells were ringing in my head, I just wanted to figure out what I was supposed to be afraid of. I started to see a lot of things that concerned me. She made sexually explicit comments about the men she followed that didn’t seem consensual. Then when I started to notice him spending more time checking his phone in frustration when he was with me, she’d be tweeting about being suicidal. The things he told me about her started to remind me of my previous abuser and I started to get severely triggered. He told me that he broke things off with her, but then he started to tell me that she wouldn’t respect his boundaries, that he had to stay holed up in his room.
Eventually I told him that I was pretty concerned about the patterns I was seeing. I was worried about him being emotionally manipulated. He told me I had nothing to worry about, but then the next week he broke down and confessed that he’d slept with her after she climbed into his bed while he was taking a nap—before I’d even brought up my concerns to him. At first I was angry at him, did this mean he’d cheated on me? But as we spoke, he told me that he didn’t feel like he could keep saying no to her and that he felt so ashamed and didn’t want to freak me out even more, but he had to come clean. I told him I needed him to be honest with me, that what he was describing was serious, and that I was going to take it seriously, but I needed to know that he wasn’t trying to deflect the blame. He told me he told me everything honestly this time. I panicked. He was describing coercive assault. Suddenly she was moving out and I was moving in.
We’d been taking sexy photos together throughout our relationship and we’d talk about sharing my nudes sometime. But I had strict boundaries. I needed him to check in with me first and I sent him photos that I explicitly told him were what I wanted to share if he did. Right before things with his “roommate” began to escalate, he messaged me screenshots of sexts he’d been having with someone else over IG and told me he’d shared some photos. In the screenshots he sent, it didn’t seem like he’d asked the other person first, and it didn’t seem like they seemed very interested in me. I wasn’t even sure he had permission to share the screenshots with me. I couldn’t see what photos he sent and the responses didn’t match what the photos I said he could share should’ve elicited. I asked. It turned out he’d shared screenshots of videos he’d taken when we were having sex. I hadn’t told him he could share those. I was surprised and upset, but I figured he might not have understood and went over the boundaries with him again. I wanted to know who he was sending my nudes to and I didn’t want him to send any pictures from sex until I developed trust with that person.
Before she decided to move out, things were tense. He began to tell me more and more things that he hadn’t told me before that rang more and more alarm bells. She was his current closest connection to his home country and she seemed to be connected to everyone. She had some “crazy ex-roommate” who left swiftly after living with her for a month. She tweeted that she took a self-assessment that said there was a 50/50 chance her situation could devolve into domestic violence. I asked him about all of it, I asked about how he spoke to her, how he moved around her. We walked through everything together, and I told him to just stay with me and we’d start looking for our own place. He said he told her the plan and that she decided to just move out herself. She ended up finding a new place within the month.
He explained how triggering the entire event was. How he’d had a girlfriend in the past come over and she broke all of his things and after she left, someone had seen her getting into a cab, crying and upset, and she’d told them he’d abused her, which he told me he absolutely hadn’t. The story sounded off to me, but he refused to tell me more after that. And I was already past the point of no return. But I told myself that this was a girlfriend he’d had back before he moved to Canada, from one of the countries my parents were from. I’d experienced how traumatized and traumatizing people from back home seemed to be around relationships, so I chalked it all up
As I started to move my own things into the now mostly vacant apartment, we got into an argument and he screamed at me. I was shocked. I’d been willing to believe him for so long because until then, we’d always managed to work through things smoothly. But I blamed myself and the move. But after I moved in, our fights kept escalating the same way. No matter how I reacted or responded. I tried to follow all his boundaries to the letter, but it kept ending up with him screaming at me. Sometimes I’d scream back. Sometimes I’d cry and beg for him to stop, that I was trying so hard not to upset him. Eventually I asked him if this was how he’d treated the ex-roommate, or if he ever treated his ex-fiance like that, he promised me no, this was new, he’d never acted like that before.
The stories he started to tell about her after I moved stopped lining up with the stories he told before I had. I struggled to make sense of what he was telling me. I needed to find out more of her side but I was afraid to ask directly because I was ashamed of the way I’d defended him. She’d been secretly (then later not-so-secretly) stalking my Twitter and possibly my Instagram from the time they’d moved in together until sometime after I’d moved in. So I rationalized to myself (though I still knew it was wrong, I admit) that I could do the same. But I started to notice things that made me question a lot of the stories he told me. So I started to fact-check him.
That’s how I learned that the entire time he told me that she was never interested in a relationship, that she just wanted to be friends with benefits, that he was the one begging her for a relationship, she’d actually told him that she wasn’t sure if she was ready for the kind of relationship she wanted to have with him. She didn’t think she could just keep it casual, and that she could be his friend or she could be in a relationship with him, but it had to be one or the other.
He also told me that he’d broken up with her in February of that year. I remember because during one of my peeks at her Twitter, I saw that her birthday had been the following week, and I felt a pang of guilt for encouraging the break-up just before her birthday. That was also how I learned that she’d only been 25 when they first moved in together. The way that he spoke about her, I’d assumed that she was the same age, or even older than he was. His ex had been a lot older than him and he’d said that he usually went for older women, and that me being a little younger was out of the norm for him. He told me that he had assumed she was his age too until they’d already moved in together. Later when I started to find more holes in his story, he told me that he’d broken up with her after he’d already started his new job… halfway through March.
While the now-ex-meta was packing up the apartment to move out, she sent him a long text about harassing someone until they said yes wasn’t consent and that she was furious for how he treated her friend. He sent me a screenshot but the message was vague so I asked him what she was talking about. He said he had no idea. He said that he could only think of the time that she suggested one of her friends for a threesome but when he messaged that friend, they weren’t interested and he apologized and backed off. Later I found out that that friend was even younger than the meta. I also found out that he’d been asking her for nudes and flirting with her throughout the entire time that he’d known the meta, even though she’d been continually rejecting him. When I asked him about it, he said that he “didn’t remember” and that he didn’t realize he might’ve been making people uncomfortable.
When I moved in I’d asked him to make certain agreements. I was giving up an affordable apartment, even if it was inaccessible, and there would be no way for me to get another. I didn’t want to give up living alone as a DV survivor and I’d rather stay in my walk-up than have to figure out a roommate situation in a rush. If I moved, I needed it to be relatively permanent. I was self-employed and my credit was only fair. Even if I could afford an apartment, there was little chance of me getting accepted for any applied for. Especially being disabled. So if we didn’t work out, we needed to either figure out how to live together as roommates or he needed to be okay being the one to move out and letting me keep the apartment. I also needed to be on the lease. I didn’t want my housing used against me and I told him so. It only seemed fair since he wouldn’t move in with me without getting on the lease. He agreed. Except when it came time to sign the lease, there were always scheduling conflicts with the landlord. Eventually I agreed to just have faith in him not to need the lease for my protection.
I’d made plans for my birthday that year. My friends were still really cautious about COVID so we made plans to get together on my balcony and finally get to see a group of my friends at once in person for the first time since the pandemic began. I told him that he had to be extra careful in the week leading up to seeing everyone. Some of my friends were high-risk and others were caring for someone high-risk. He agreed and promised that my safety mattered to him. A few days before my birthday, he went to a rave and posted photos of him dancing unmasked. I had to cancel my plans. I ended up rescheduling those plans for Halloween to do a little horror movie night with my friends. He ended up kicking me out a day or two before so that he could go to another rave. Once again I cancelled my plans.
When he kicked me out, he told me that I was expecting him to be perfect, that I wanted too much from him. I begged and cried and told him I was trying so hard. I spent Halloween crying on my best friend’s couch thinking I’d destroyed our relationship. A few days later we agreed to work things out. I continued to stay at my mother’s for the week but I came to visit him in our apartment after we made up and we kissed and cuddled and acted all in love again. I asked if he wanted to see people while we were apart and he said that he’d tell me if he was thinking about it. He said he’d call me that night and we made an agreement to call each other to say goodnight until I came back home. He didn’t call that night. I messaged him. He was hanging out with a friend and lost track of time. He’d call me tomorrow. By hanging out with a friend, he apparently meant sleeping with someone. And he did it in my bed since I wasn’t there, not his. He had the plan when we were making out on the couch just a few hours earlier. Later he told me that they agreed not to fool around anymore. I’d find out later that they’d never talked about it at all, she had just started rejecting him afterwards and had to stop talking to him outside of booking shows because he wouldn’t let it go. He told me she was a liar. They still book each other for shows though so who knows who was the liar there I guess.
Eventually he’d tell me that he sent more of our sex photos to someone else. He didn’t tell me who. He said I didn’t know them. When I got upset, saying that he knowingly broke my boundaries, he got angry with me.
We tried to work through things and we even saw a couples therapist. That didn’t last long when the therapist started to have the same concerns about his behaviour as I did. According to his own therapist, I was secretly trying to force him into a monogamous relationship. I told him I just didn’t want to be lied to anymore. That was our last appointment.
But he also told me he wanted to be with me for years. That I was the best thing to happen to him. That he’d have been trapped in all kinds of toxic cycles if I hadn’t shown him the patterns he played a part in. He told me that he wanted to move to England together. He wanted to start getting his ducks in a row for the following summer. A month later he gave me COVID and tried to kick me out.
These aren’t all the lies he told, but I feel like this should be enough for you to get the picture for what it was like to be with him. I don’t know what narratives he’s been spinning about me, but he’s had his lackeys threaten to call the police or threaten me with lawyers over talking about it, so I can only imagine what he’s said.
After he moved out, he told me that the worst thing I’d done was share “the story of us” to everyone. He told me that he knew that none of it wasn’t true. So that’s my crime and I’m here to do it again. Telling the story of what he did to me.
